


One Last Kiss

by GordandV



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Found Family, Gen, In Flagrante Delicto, Non-Graphic Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 21:41:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21700186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GordandV/pseuds/GordandV
Summary: Selina knows her relationship with Bruce is tenuous at best and has learned to take full advantage of the good times whenever they roll, both in and out of costume.She feels Bruce tense up along her back and it only grows worse as a sobbing Dick enters. He weaves unsteadily on his feet in an oversized t-shirt that hangs down past his knees with both hands wiping ineffectively at his face. It’s any wonder how neither of them heard him coming.
Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 14
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gord wanted to keep this from ever seeing the light of day, but V went, "the world needs more BatCat. It's sexy fun times then fluff. What more could you want?" and posted it anyways.

Selina knows her relationship with Bruce is tenuous at best and has learned to take full advantage of the good times whenever they roll, both in and out of costume. After assisting Batman and Robin to put the end to an illegal exotic animal trading ring with the battle scar to prove it, she accepts the invitation to return to the Batcave without hesitating. She, like Robin, accepts the words at face value to have her wounds looked over. They’re more inconvenient than anything else, but Selina appreciates the offer regardless; it’ll be nice to see Alfred and have someone fuss over her. She can take care of herself, but sometimes it’s nice to not have to.

When Batman tells Robin to head back without them, Selina feels the mood change. The only times Batman ever told Robin to leave him alone with Catwoman always ended in some comprising positions for the pair. She looks at Batman again and considers his offer with new realization. While she’s sure that she’ll get the medical attention she needs at some point, she’s not sure if she’ll be spending the rest of her night alone. It’s been months since their last encounter, and it was painfully short for Selina’s tastes.

“You gotta talk with her or something?” Robin spits, surprisingly venomous.

“Yes,” comes the low response, and Catwoman can’t help but purr a little as she slinks as best she can over to Batman. There’s a cut on her thigh that isn’t deep but is just enough to twinge when she puts weight on it.

“I’ll catch you back at the nest, Robin,” she croons, watching as Robin folds his arms. Little Dick Grayson isn’t so little anymore, and she wonders how much longer she’ll be able to consider him a boy. He’s grown so much over the past few years, and it seems he has the attitude to prove it too.

“Whatever he has to say to you, he can say in front of me.”

Selina pouts as Batman whirls about, cape snapping. On the one hand it’s reasonable for Robin to not want to leave his mentor alone with Catwoman; she has a checkered past. She’s been on her best behavior as of late, though, and she thought that would have won a little more trust. One the other hand, one that Selina is not sure Dick is aware of, is that Batman simply doesn’t want an audience to no doubt promise some adults activities. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, though it is the first in that Robin hasn’t just headed out on command.

“Robin, I told you to head back.”

“I heard you, and I want to hear what you have to say to her.” Robin jerks his chin at Catwoman who’s leaned sideways from behind Batman. She tips her head a bit then grins. It’s a gamble, but if it works how she wants it could stop Robin from future cock-blocking. Selina removes her orange goggles and sets them on her forehead. She then does two neat turns that barely makes her leg hurt to press herself along Batman’s right side. One leg hitches up and bumps along the ridges of his armor.

“Adult talk, Robin,” she says lowly, reaching up to Batman’s left shoulder. He remains completely still as Catwoman’s claws lightly drag over his heart then lower, not leaving a single mark. Her back arches more the further down her hand goes. Despite the lenses in his domino Catwoman can practically see his eyes track her hand. Her leg merely moves outwards to give her hand space as she reaches down below the yellow utility belt.

Thankfully the message gets received loud and clear before her hand can reach the end target. Robin’s face pulls and Selina is grateful that she gambled correctly, that despite Robin’s maturity, he is still young and squeamish enough when it comes to sex.

“You could have just said,” he says, sounding torn between embarrassment and distress, skin around his cheeks darkening in a blush under the full moon’s light. Catwoman tries not to laugh as she hooks her arms around Batman’s neck and leans up on one foot as the other leg curls up.

“Batman was trying to be subtle,” she hums lightly. “Me? Not so much.”

Robin blanches and looks close to gagging as he turns about with a grumbled. “See you at the Cave. Ug. Gross.”

It isn’t until Robin is out of sight that Batman moves, and Selina is delighted to find that it’s to get her up into his arms. He bounces her a bit and the quirk to his lips tells her that he is in a rare, playful mood.

“Not how I would have handled it,” he whispers, sounding amused.

“It got him out of here, didn’t it?” asks Selina as she’s brought over to the edge of the rooftop.

“Yes, but now I have to deal with him and his shame for who knows how long.”

“He had to have known on some level we sometimes…sleep together,” Selina says slowly as readies herself for a quick rappel.

“Suspect? Sure.” Something audibly clicks before the rappel gun fires into the dark. “But now he has confirmation. Don’t think Agent A won’t have an opinion when we get back.”

Alfred, ever the gentleman, merely raises one eyebrow at the pair upon their arrival together. He doesn’t make any quips and merely says Master Richard has retired for the night and tea will be ready in two.

“Miss Kyle, I do hope my old eyes deceive me and those are aren’t fresh wounds,” Alfred says with a pointed look in Bruce’s direction as the two head up the steps to where the med-bay is.

“You’re eagle eyed as ever,” Selina chirps back, carefully getting herself onto the nearest bed. “They’re not that bad.”

Alfred sniffs a bit as he rolls back his sleeves. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

Selina lets herself be tended to by Alfred and is sure to compliment how gentle his hands are. That earns her a small but genuine smile and soft pat on the knee. It gets even better when Bruce, shirtless, barefoot, and in a pair of sweatpants that sit deliciously low over his hips, arrives with a tray. He makes Selina a cup to her instructions, one for Alfred, then a last one for himself.

They sit together on Selina’s bed and chat about light topics until the teapot is empty. Bruce declines a second pot and offers an upwards palm to Selina as Alfred heads off with the tray. He makes some terrible line about not sending a lady home so late in the night and offers his bedroom for her use.

“Perhaps when I’m not within earshot, Master Bruce,” calls Alfred which makes Selina outright laugh when Bruce turns a bit pink and looks rightfully ashamed. He’s eager, and Selina finds it adorable.

“Let’s be quiet,” she whispers back, putting a finger over her lips. Bruce smiles shyly as she puts her hand on his and helps her off the bed.

Hand-in-hand they head upstairs and stalk through the manor until the two grand double doors are just a few feet away. The lights are near blinding when Bruce flicks them on; Selina snaps the switch back down. Her head tilts dramatically and she takes the lead to the bathroom.

It only takes a few minutes until the large tub is filled with hot water. There’s minimal guilt when the last of Alfred’s carefully applied dressings sail into the trash bin with one bit of gauze settling top of Selina’s Catwoman suit and Bruce’s clothing. Bruce, already settled in the bathtub, holds both hands up for Selina as she stands beside the tub in near darkness. There’s only a few fake glowing candles as her fingers lace tight against Bruce’s. It’s a careful dance as she steps one leg into the hot water on the far side of the tub to settle flat beside Bruce’s hip. She braces where their hands meet to keep from slipping as she slowly leans over to get her over leg in.

“What a gentleman,” she hums as she pushes back and lets herself sink down. By the time she’s on her knees across Bruce’s upper thighs the water is halfway up her ribcage. She lets go and dips her hands under the surface then reaches for her own hips. With a little arch backwards she traces up her body and purposefully over her breasts. Calloused hands grip the back of her thighs and Bruce’s low hum of appreciation is enough to make her shiver. It shouldn’t have surprised her that Bruce was a quiet man in bed; the first few times with minimal feedback had put her on edge. She’s grown to love what noises and few words she can get out of him.

“Don’t tell Alfred I ruined all his work, alright?” she asks as quietly as she can while she reaches for his wrists. She retraces the wet path she just made on herself with his hands. “I’ll just blame you.”

“Sure, Selina.”

Fingertips circle around her nipples then tease over them. Selina responds by grinding down against Bruce and sends the water sloshing. She holds onto the sides of the tub then switches to grabbing behind Bruce’s head to lean over him. There’s a bubble of laughter from Selina when Bruce hooks his legs out on either side of the tub to slip down then goes too far and ends up briefly dunking himself. He splutters a bit, wipes a hand over his face, then glares up at Selina who giggles a bit more.

“I bet you charm all the ladies with that move,” she murmurs. “So hot.”

Bruce mutters a dark “shut up” before his mouth suctions over her right nipple. Selina moans and shifts her hands closer together to rest her forehead against them. His mouth is hot, wet, and hosts a talented tongue. He knows exactly how she likes it, not too hard and no teeth, and when he switches to the other side she feels one hand fumble against her side then down between her legs. The angle isn’t great for Bruce’s wrist but Selina has to give it him; he doesn’t give up. She does take pity on him after a few minutes and coaxes his mouth to release by squeezing on either side of his jaw.

“Too much?” he asks, worry bleeding into his voice, but Selina merely thumbs over his bottom lip.

“Perfect, but I thought I’d rescue your hand,” she replies.

He sits back up, reclines against the bath cushion, bends his knees, and Selina twists then sits between them with her back to his chest. He kisses and nibbles at her neck with a gentleness that still takes her by surprise as one hand lays flat over her abdomen while the other slowly pushes one finger into her. He won’t do anything more than use his fingers until they reach the safety of dry land which normally coincides with how hot the water stays.

That night Bruce wants to leave first. They towel off briefly before Selina demands she be carried. She gets swept off her feet and feels like a doll in a giant’s hand as how easy Bruce moves. The descent onto the bed is gentle if a bit jarring because of how cool the top blanket feels against her skin. She hastily pulls at the blankets and sheets then shivers against Bruce who lays on top of her. They wait a few minutes until it doesn’t feel so cold then start to move against each other.

“Come on, come on,” Selina gasps into Bruce’s pillow, facedown and wonderfully worked up. She’s partially up on her knees and ready to beg for something more than just fingers when the door to the bedroom opens. She feels Bruce tense up along her back and it only grows worse as a sobbing Dick enters. He weaves unsteadily on his feet in an oversized t-shirt that hangs down past his knees with both hands wiping ineffectively at his face. It’s any wonder how neither of them heard him coming.

“Bruce?” Dick cries around a shuddering breath as one fist rubs over a red, damp cheek. “I had the dream again, with my parents.”

Selina barely understands what’s said and is more concerned that she’s completely naked with Bruce quite literally about to fully do the deed in his bed. She might have teased Dick before, but even she had her limits. Two more blinks then Bruce moves, this time away from her. She keeps staring as Dick bobbles further into the bedroom and barely registers that Bruce has tucked the blankets up to her neck. Her hands grabs protectively at the edges and she turns her head to see Bruce lean over to pull up on what looks like a pair of boxers.

“Dick, Dick look at me,” she hears Bruce say, almost startlingly loud in the darkness.

He moves easily over to Dick then grabs at him. For a moment Selina’s mind says that Bruce has knocked Dick over, but Bruce turns to sit on his hip with Dick cradled against his front. The sobbing turns into screams, high and childlike and nothing like Selina’s ever heard before. She merely stares, open-mouthed, as Bruce’s arms squeeze tighter around Dick while he rocks back and forth. It looks like he’s saying something, but Selina’s can’t read his lips or hear anything over the screaming if there’s any words to be heard. It’s movement from the door that catches her attention to find Alfred looked harried but still somehow put together in a blue robe over classical striped pajamas. The older man looks about then walks around Bruce and Dick right to Selina.

“Come along, my dear,” he half-shouts over Dick’s distressed, panicked noises. Alfred pulls the top blanket off then holds it up like a giant screen. It takes another moment for Selina to realize what Alfred wants before she yanks on the sheet that’s slightly damp. She bundles the sheet around herself then edges back to Alfred who tucks the blanket over her shoulders. One arm stays around her shoulders and the other comes around her lower back as she gets escorted out of the room, down the hallway, down the grand staircase and into the kitchen. It’s silent and her ears keep ringing as Alfred helps her down onto one of the chairs. A number of lights get turned onto and Selina winces a bit at the brightness.

“Just stay here, Miss Kyle, I’ll get you something more appropriate to wear,” Alfred promises. “I won’t be more than a minute or two.”

“Right,” Selina breathes, hands clutched to the blanket and sheet as her heart thunders. She tries taking a few breathes and finds them slightly shaky.

Alfred’s footsteps disappear and not more than a minute later fade back in. He helps her back up and keeps one arm around her as he directs to one of the little bathrooms where a robe and change of clothes sits.

“Why don’t you get into that then we’ll have a chat in the kitchen?” he says as if nothing is amiss.

“Sure,” Selina replies faintly. There’s a thick t-shirt, underwear, pants, and wonderfully soft robe; she briefly wonders if the fact that the underwear fits perfectly is coincidence or something else. Upon return to the kitchen she finds Alfred at the stove with a kettle and couple of bottles on the counter nearby.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but what the hell was that?” she asks, voice cracking as one arm lifts upwards to gesture to the whole situation.

“That, Miss Kyle, was quite the fright.”

Selina collapses back into the same chair as before and feels a little bit better that Alfred has acknowledged that all is not well.

“It’s uncommon, nowadays, but Master Richard sometimes has horrific nightmares about the night his parents passed.”

Selina nearly replies that what she just saw was not just a nightmare then reconsiders; Dick is a child. She has minimal experience with children, nevertheless ones with such a traumatic past like Dick.

“He’ll be alright?” she asks instead.

“Yes. It’s a bit of a familiar song and dance, if you will,” Alfred explains lowly, sounding pained. “Bruce will calm him down and if we’re lucky he’ll eventually go back to bed tonight.”

“And if you’re not lucky?”

“We’ve all had a sleepless night or two, haven’t we all?”

Selina doesn’t say another word. She accepts tea a few minutes later and makes a weak, teasing comment that tea can’t fix everything. It earns a smug smile from Alfred who settles by her.

“No, but it’s nice to pretend it does.”

They drink in silence. The heat feels good around Selina’s fingers and the soothing scent and taste of peppermint lulls her into almost thinking that she and Alfred are just two old friends sharing a midnight drink. The clock doesn’t escape her notice and it’s another half hour before a harried looking Bruce stumbles into the kitchen. It’s odd to see him look so distraught and she immediately reaches out with one hand. He brushes right past her with haunted eyes and goes over to the stove. There’s the distinct sound of pills rattling in bottles.

“Bruce?” Selina asks softly, getting up but stopping when Alfred gently takes her wrist.

“He’s getting something for Master Richard, he’ll be back,” Alfred promises.

“What, like a Xanax?” snaps Selina, all fake-good mood gone. “Bruce are you okay? What about Dick?”

“Valium,” is the single word response she gets from Bruce who goes over to the fridge, grabs what looks like a container of orange juice, then leaves without so much as looking at the other two. Selina collapses back down and holds her head in his hands.

“Seriously?” she asks.

“It’s completely safe,” Alfred assures her. “For what it’s worth, it really is Master Richard’s prescription. It was decided after some very long months that it was in his best interest to have something to help him afterwards. When Master Bruce returns we can go bid our goodnights.”

True to his word Bruce does indeed come back after another twenty or so minutes. While he looks exhausted, there’s something lighter about how he holds himself. He stops in the doorway and looks at Selina then Alfred. “Dick’s asking for you.” His face then screws up a bit. “Both of you.” The wrinkles in his forehead disappear and Selina can’t help but feel just a bit touched.

She follows last in their silent procession back upstairs and to Dick’s room. Dick is neatly tucked in his bed looking worse for wear. His eyes are swollen from crying or lidded from exhaustion, his nose is still red, and despite the relaxed smile on his lips he looks rather horrible. In short he looks exactly how Selina imagined a sedated child after a nightmare to look like.

“You can say goodnight, then you have to try to sleep,” Bruce whispers as he stretches out next to Dick on top of the blankets.

“Sorry I ruined your night,” Dick hums with a slight slur as one of Bruce’s hands smooths over his cheek then back through his hair. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Selina whispers, putting one hand onto the bed to lean over and tap her fingertip to Dick’s nose. It seems like an appropriate action for the medically compromised minor. “You keep me on my toes, I like that.”

Dick giggles as his head flops sideways onto the pillow. “I like you, Selina.”

“Good; keep me around then,” she says as she moves away. Alfred is much the same, all gentle gestures and soft words.

“You can stay in my room, or one of the guest rooms,” Bruce says, voice barely above a whisper as he strokes his fingertips over Dick’s forehead. His blue eyes are hidden, and looks asleep except for how his smile fades and grows. “I have to stay here tonight.”

Selina nods, conflicted. She’s tired, confused, angry because she’s confused, but part of her doesn’t want to leave. She doesn’t want to leave either Bruce or Dick out of her sight.

“I could stay, if you want.”

Bruce starts to say, “You don’t have to” while Dick squirms and frees his arms to reach out to her.

“Please.”

Selina slips down on Dick’s other side with the grace of her alter ego’s namesake and into his hug. It earns a weak giggle and Selina tells herself that Dick is not pulling any type of move as he nuzzles dangerously close to her chest. He’s not crying, not screaming, and in all likliehood as close to stoned as Bruce will ever let him get.

“Just like a sleepover, right?” she asks as Alfred says somewhat dryly he’ll grab more blankets.

Dick hums happily and tries to squirm closer to Selina as Bruce hovers behind him, looking anxious. “Sleepover.”

“Yup, because you, Dick, almost gave me a heart attack,” Selina continues in a honey-sweet tone as she carefully extracts herself from Dick’s grip. She gets under the blankets and lets Dick plaster himself against her front. She clicks her tongue at Bruce who looks like he’s swallowed a lemon.

“It’s fine, really,” she hisses under her breath as she shifts lower and winces as a surprisingly boney elbow digs into her injured thigh. “Go put on real clothes, then come spoon one of us.”

Bruce’s mouth opens then shuts as his eyes narrow. “Just keep him happy.”

“Not a problem,” she replies easily as she adjusts her arms around Dick and tries to figure out the best way to hold him. He’s bordering the age between boy and teenager and Selina certainly doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable with how close she gets. She figures anything above the waist is fair game as she tucks Dick’s head under her chin and wraps her arms around his shoulders. She shifts them around until they’re both happy, just in time for Alfred to return with an armful of blankets.

“Gonna join us?” Selina asks playfully.

“I think the bed will barely fit three, let alone four,” replies Alfred as he unfolds the blankets and spreads them out. “Maybe next time.”

He does wait until Bruce returns in sweatpants and a faded grey t-shirt before making his goodnights. Once Bruce is settled on Dick’s other side under the blankets, Alfred shuts the lights off and shuts the door.

“Sleepover,” whispers Dick as Bruce rubs between his shoulders.

“Go to sleep,” Bruce whispers right back, adding on a “sorry” when he reaches out to Selina who jumps. He squeezes her hand a bit. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She doesn’t add that there is a lot they have to talk about, but she figures it goes unsaid.

It’s a quiet rest of the night but Selina wakes up too often. She’s not used to anything bigger than a cat or five sleeping by her most nights and the extra warmth of a human body is unusual, nevertheless two. Throughout the night she finds numerous arms over her, and on one occasion a bare leg that she has to shove off her hip. When she opens her eyes and realizes there’s dawn coming from behind the curtains she finds herself almost falling off the edge with a very broad furnace pressed behind her. It’s Bruce, and as she sits up she finds Dick pressed against his back.


	2. Chapter 2

Catwoman shushes Nightwing as she hooks her chin over his shoulder and holds him firmly against her front. She can feel every shuddery breath he takes as her arms curls around his biceps, forcing his hands briefly away from his face before they go right back up. When she feels like she has a decent grip on him, she carefully lowers their bodies down to the ground which is ice cold and hard as diamond from the week of freezing temperatures.

“It’s not real, Nightwing,” she croons, trying for motherly instead of what she thinks Batman sounds like, which is to say in one word, harsh. He’s not uncaring, but he’s not exactly known for his soft words; everyone growls when they do a Batman impression for a reason. It’s not Nightwing’s fault he got hit with Scarecrow’s newest formula, and Catwoman rocks left and right as she keeps talking.

“Nothing you’re seeing is real, I promise,” she continues as Nightwing sobs brokenly. One of her hands carefully moves up to push back his hair in a tender gesture, but Nightwing flinches as he grabs onto her arm with a vice-like grip. “I’m sorry, you’re safe, you’re safe.”

If Nightwing says something, Catwoman can’t understand a word of it, and her heart breaks a little bit with every noise he makes. He’s close to hyperventilating, and coupled with how hard he’s crying, she’s a little surprised he’s still conscious. While it was bad enough the few times she ever saw little Robin strung out on fear gas, hearing a child scream at long-dead parents, she thinks she’d rather hear high-pitched shouts of terror instead of this. Nightwing is young, always will be to her, but he’s a man now. There’s something about hearing a man as strong as him be reduced to sobs and whimpers that makes Catwoman feel like she’s swallowed a rock that sits in the pit of her belly.

“Just hold on, kitten, we’ll fix you up soon,” she tries to soothe as her eyes dart around. Scarecrow is bound up tight, unconscious, will be lucky if he ever has use of his fingers again, if they don’t have to amputate them off that is. It’s quiet out in the graveyard, and she curses briefly because how far could away could the Batmobile be?

She does her best to keep Nightwing from hurting himself which includes holding his hands down when he tries to claw over his face. When Batman does finally pull up, she doesn’t bother to hide how upset she is.

“Stop at the drive-thru?” she snaps as Batman crouches down and pulls Nightwing’s head to his chest before injecting him with another vial of antidote from the Batmobile.

“How is he?” Batman asks, and Catwoman doesn’t blame him for dismissing her. There’s more important things to worry about.

“Bad, but he’s had worse.”

Batman grunts instead of replying and kneels down, legs spreading around the pair on the ground. It takes a moment before Catwoman realizes that he’s going to take Nightwing from her. She helps move Nightwing who continues to whimper and shiver until he’s safely tucked in Batman’s arms, black cape wrapped about him like a blanket.

“Remember how to drive this thing?” asks Batman lowly as they walk to the Batmobile. It really is something special, Catwoman thinks, but at that moment she’s just glad it has heated seats. She’s cold, tired, and she knows by the time they get back to the Cave and get Nightwing situated, she’ll be crashing.

“You know I do,” she replies shortly, and before her brain can catch up to her mouth she adds, “My first lesson was pretty memorable.”

She likes to think that lesson had also christened the vehicle, and clearly Batman remembers that time too because he doesn’t say a single thing as his shoulders stiffen up.

She gets in first on the driver side and takes Nightwing until Batman hops in. Nightwing gets shifted back to Batman who cradles him close, practically nose to nose. For just a moment she watches Batman’s mouth move, speaking too low for her to catch. In response Nightwing groans but lets his head tip inwards to Batman. Nightwing’s getting a little quieter and Catwoman prays it’s the antidote starting to work as she shifts forward on the blessedly warm seat to reach the pedals.

The drive isn’t completely silent, but it is otherwise uneventful. The world outside is nothing but dark blurs and she has no fear putting the vehicle through its paces to get back to the Cave as fast as possible. The engine does in fact purr and roar until it finally goes quiet when it’s parked. She gets out first and helps Batman get Nightwing over to the medical bay where Alfred is waiting for them.

“Miss Kyle, always a pleasure to see you,” Alfred greets as Nightwing gets lowered onto a bed with a little groan. He’s half lucid as Batman starts to work the uniform off him while Alfred goes to for another vial. Once Nightwing’s arm gets bared only half of another antidote gets administered followed by an IV that Catwoman is very sure is part hydration, mostly sedative.

“Will you be staying the night?” Alfred asks lightly while he works as Catwoman lingers nearby, a silent watcher. She does turn herself around when Nightwing’s uniform dips below his waist, exposing even more skin. She waits a few seconds before peeking over her shoulder to confirm that Nightwing is getting tucked in by Batman under a thick grey blanket who then sits at his side.

“I would hate to impose,” she replies, watching as the black cowl comes off. Her head tips as she watches Bruce mouth “stay” at her while Alfred hums thoughtfully and moves a rolling tray closer to Nightwing’s side. It’s clear Nightwing isn’t in any real danger and will simply have to sleep off the rest of the toxin.

“You wouldn’t be imposing at all,” says Alfred who clips something to Nightwing’s finger. One of the monitors flickers to life, bringing up a pulse and a number of other items Catwoman can’t make out.

“If you’re sure,” she says slowly.

“Give me another ten minutes with Master Dick here then I can get you something to eat.”

She laughs, quietly, and pulls her orange goggles off her head. “How about I leave the men folk here while I go get us something?”

“You, in a kitchen?” Bruce asks, sounding outright doubtful despite the hint of a smile on his face and his hand clamped around Dick’s as Alfred gets the domino off Dick’s face.

“I like to live dangerously,” Catwoman replies lowly as she makes a shooing motion with one hand. “Go, do you thing, help our little kitten, I’ll be back.”

“If you’d like to change before venturing upstairs, my lady, I’m sure Master Bruce has something of his for you to borrow,” Alfred chimes as Catwoman saunters towards the stairs. She changes direction towards where the Bat clan keeps their sets of clothing and reaches for the zipper on the front of her outfit.

“Are flirting with me on Bruce’s behalf, Alfred?” she teases as she inches the zipper downwards, turning her torso just enough to flash what’s underneath.

“Absolutely; he needs all the help he can get.”

“Excuse you,” she hears Bruce grumble before Alfred breaks out into laughter. It’s more than just her antics; it’s relief that Dick is safe, and will, in a few hours, be fine.

Catwoman’s outfit gets removed and neatly folded on the bench behind the screen. Selina rummages through Bruce’s stash and finds a nice black t-shirt that on her fits like a dress. She forgoes anything else and grabs another shirt and sweatpants before leaving. Bruce hasn’t moved from Dick’s side.

“I’ll sit with him, go get dressed,” she says as she offers the bundle over. “Then you and Alfred keep watch and I’ll make us something.”

“Or Alfred can be more useful than just a pair of eyes,” Alfred says softly with a smile. “I’ve done all I can for Dick. You two wait down here, I’ll be back.”

“You’re the best, Alf,” Selina coos as the man gives her a wink then heads off. Bruce stands up and holds the clothing to his front as he eases Dick’s hand down onto the bed. Selina takes Bruce’s spot and takes up Dick’s hand, stroking along the back of it. She eyes Bruce and tips her chin upwards. “Go on, I’ll be here.” There’s a tired, relieved smile as Bruce nods.

Sandwiches and hot decaf tea go down as easy as could be. Dick stirs just a bit to slur out he wants his own bed that night. There’s a short argument that ends up with Bruce carrying Dick upstairs and Selina taking charge of the IV pole with Alfred trailing behind them. Once Dick is settled down with strict instructions to call if he needs help, Bruce grabs at the blankets and moves them around, without any real purpose. Selina thinks it’s a way to delay saying goodnight. The man eventually does lean over by Dick’s head.

“Sleep,” Bruce whispers before kissing Dick’s temple. “Call if you need us.”

Dick hums tiredly and smiles bigger when Alfred pets his hair with his own goodnights. Selina watches with a fond heart before she catches Bruce and Alfred looking at her. She blinks before Bruce moves aside. She doesn’t move an inch and it isn’t until Bruce points a finger at Dick that she grins and moves in.

“Feel better, kitten,” she speaks softly, smoothing a hand over Dick’s cheek and into his hair a few times. Dick absolutely melts at the touch. “See you in the morning.”

“Love you all,” Dick croaks. Selina waits a few more minutes until she’s sure Dick is asleep. She, Alfred, and Bruce creep out and to the hallway, then Selina latches onto Bruce’s arm.

“Bed time, Dark Knight?”

Bruce, clearly exhausted, nods weakly. “Bed time.”

Alfred gives his goodnights and Selina leads Bruce to his bedroom. She cuddles close to him under the blankets, ear over his heart and one leg hitched over his hips. She doesn’t want to push anything, doesn’t expect anything really because they’re both tired from the night, not to mention emotionally drained, but Bruce has always been one for surprises. She feels him shift and sighs as she feels a kiss to the top of her head while a hand finds her hip. Fingertips walk down her side after a few seconds and dip below the edge of the shirt to touch along her thigh.

“You can keep going,” Selina murmurs as she feels Bruce tug on the material, questioning. She hums happily as that hand slips back up under the shirt and closes over her hip. It squeezes gently then fingers trace along her side. While she does have her own collection of scars she doesn’t have the vast landscape that Bruce does. She knows that Bruce is self-conscious about his marks, that he’s admitted to like touching her skin because he could run his palm over inches of blemish-free, soft areas. It was flattering, and also a little sad. Bruce had scars, but Selina liked them. She liked them a lot.

“You okay if we make this a mutual thing?” she asks, dragging her nails over Bruce’s front, silently reveling in the feel of hard muscle.

“I thought you were tired,” Bruce grumbles, but he doesn’t stop stroking as Selina lifts the leg over Bruce to make room to hitch up his shirt and tuck her hand underneath.

“I thought you were, too,” she replies back, humming in satisfaction as she traces around his abs before fluidity hefting herself up and onto his hips. The blanket slips down her shoulders as she bows over Bruce and rests her forearms on either side of his head. It becomes a game of chicken until their foreheads gently touch.

“Still a little keyed up?” she asks as she lets her knees slide out to slowly, carefully grinding down. In response Bruce leans up enough to kiss her while he grasps her rear, albeit softly. No matter how many times she winds up in bed with Bruce, she can never get over how careful and gentle he is. She’s seen firsthand the violence and pain he can inflict, but never with her, not like this. He’s a papa bear, protective and caring. She smiles into the kiss and bites back at him, arching further.

“I think I can wear you out a bit,” she says against his mouth. They’ve all had nights when sleep wasn’t easy to find, but nights when Selina had Bruce almost always ended with sweet dreams. Sex also works as a great distraction from thinking about your eldest son and watching him tortured by his own worst fears.

The kiss and writhe against each other until Selina grows impatient. Her shirt goes sailing through the air first, then Bruce’s. She does take her time licking and nibbling down his chest until her chin hits fabric. She gets onto her toes and crouches like a cat about to pounce as her fingers hook onto the waistband. Her chin sinks into Bruce’s abdomen as she looks back up at him with a grin. Even in the dim light she can see his chest heaving, can feel his elevated pulse against her own, the heat of their skin that’s sticking together wherever it’s pressed together.

“Yeah?” she asks, teasing the fabric up and down a few inches. She waits until Bruce nods then tugs down. She ends up yanking off everything from Bruce’s ankles and shimmies off what little she has left on. The initial press of their bodies makes her shiver when she lays back down on top of Bruce. It takes a few more minutes before Selina goes for the nightstand and tosses up a condom that Bruce snatches from the air.

“I love it when you show off,” she whispers.

“Wasn’t exactly showing off,” Bruce replies, voice tight.

Selina loves many things about Bruce, but sleeping with an athlete of sorts has its perks. He’s strong enough that she can reach behind herself to brace against his knees for as long as she needs as she works herself up and down on him. Each stroke hits her right where she wants it. Bruce’s hands on her hips are still fairly gentle, but she can tell when Bruce is getting closer when she feels the tremors.

“Bruce? Bruce, I think…someone needs to watch me.”

Selina curses and looks around and finds Dick walking into the bedroom, wild-eyed, covered in a blanket. He looks a bit manic as he stumbles a bit then recovers. “I…oh. Um. Hi.”

“Great,” Selina mutters as she carefully dismounts and tugs up on the blanket as Bruce stares.

“Dick?”

Dick grins, but there’s something tight about around the edges of his mouth as he adjusts the blanket. “I remember when I walked in on you two before. I’m sorry. I should go.” But he doesn’t move as Bruce yanks the sheet free and haphazardly gets it around himself as he tumbles from the bed.

“Dick, what’s wrong?”

“I think I’m seeing things,” Dick laughs, but it’s strained. He sounds close to tears as his voice then cracks. “I don’t know what’s real.”

“Oh, kitten,” Selina whispers as Bruce hugs Dick tightly and lifts one of Dick’s arms.

“Dick, did you pull out your IV?” she hears Bruce ask, but his tone is amazingly soft. “There’s a lot of blood right here. Alfred will have to fix this.”

Selina takes that as her cue as she holds her blanket and slides off the bed. Her leg muscles protest the new type of motion as she heads for the doors. “I’ll get Alfred.”

Dick whimpers. “Maybe? I…thought my mom was here. She was touching me, but she’s dead. Isn’t she? I saw her though, Bruce, you have to believe me.”

“I do believe you, Dick, it’s alright. You remember tonight?”

Selina walks around the two as Bruce gently gets Dick to kneel down. “You got dosed by Scarecrow, remember?”

“Was that real?” Dick asks faintly.

“It was, and I think you’re still under the influence.”

Selina jogs down to Alfred’s room and knocks twice before letting herself in. She opens the door to watch Alfred sit up in bed and slide the eye mask off his face.

“Dick’s hallucinating. Or…something. He ripped his IV out. I think Bruce wanted to get you,” she says in a rush. Alfred stares at her and one eyebrow arches. She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Dick might have walked in on us. Again.”

Alfred hums, sounding serious as he tosses his blankets back and gets his legs to the floor to ease his feet into slippers. “You have some terrible luck, Miss Kyle.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

They find Bruce on their way back with Dick in his arms, muttering to himself with darting, unseeing eyes. The bloodstained blanket is clenched between his hands and trembles, but every other part of him is rigid and still. Even when he’s brought down to the Cave and made as comfortable as possible on the bed while Bruce gets more antidote and Alfred works to set up another IV, Dick doesn’t register them at all. He just sits and holds onto the blanket; for whatever reason, he won’t let it go.

It takes too long before he goes still. All tension in his body releases and his chest rises and falls gently. He’s finally asleep, though it’s arguably more like an exhausted slumber.

“He’ll be fine,” Selina finds herself saying as she rests a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “We’ll stay with him the rest of the night. Just to make sure.”

Bruce hums gently as he puts his hand over hers. “Maybe we should get some pants first.” Neither of them have gotten dressed and somehow had worked while keeping their respective sheets or blankets in place.

“Pants first,” she agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who wanted a little more BatCat, hope you enjoyed.
> 
> ~Gord


End file.
